


The One Where Clint is Really Flexible

by respoftw



Series: Tumblr Prompts - Hawksilver edition [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint is really flexible, Getting Together, M/M, Nightmares, Pietro likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:53:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro’s favourite part of Avengers HQ is his bed.  He doesn’t apologise for that.  After a decade of living day to day and rarely knowing where he would end up laying his head at night, a warm, comfortable bed is a welcome addition to his life.</p><p>His second favourite part of Avengers HQ though, is the gym.  Stark had spared no expense when it came to outfitting that part of the building and Pietro can happily lose hours in the place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Clint is Really Flexible

**Author's Note:**

> From the following prompt:
> 
> mrsdanieljackson said to pietrolovesclint:  
> If someone hasn't already asked for this or something similar,I would like for Pietro see Clint doing some workout that shows how flexible he is,After Pietro see that he can't get it out of his mind so he starts having dreams about the positions he and Clint could do and other naughty ways Clint could use his flexibility,I hope you have a wonderful day.

Pietro’s favourite part of Avengers HQ is his bed.  He doesn’t apologise for that.  After a decade of living day to day and rarely knowing where he would end up laying his head at night, a warm, comfortable bed is a welcome addition to his life.

His second favourite part of Avengers HQ though, is the gym.  Stark had spared no expense when it came to outfitting that part of the building and Pietro can happily lose hours in the place.

Sparring with Steve, boxing with Sam, spotting with Rhodey, or just working up a sweat and running off some of his endless energy himself, it’s his happy place.  The place where he really feels like part of the team.

He’s not been out on a mission yet.  Steve keeps insisting he needs time after dying (albeit temporarily) in Sokovia.  He hasn’t had a chance to prove himself as an official Avenger. He still feels uncomfortable with the rest of them in a social environment.  It’s been just him and Wanda for too long, he’s not sure how to change his mindset, how to let the rest of them in.  So really, all he has is the gym.

Or, all he _had_ was the gym.

The archer is back.  The one that thinks it’s funny to call him “Speedy” or “Kid” or “Brat”, never Pietro.  The one who runs his mouth and pokes fun at him for not joining in movie nights or “family dinners”.  Pietro could forgive all that, he’s not some delicate little flower, he gives back as good as he gets.  Except that the old man has stolen his gym.

It’s a communal gym.  He knows that.  He even _enjoys_ working out with the others.  But since he and Wanda had moved their stuff into the building three months ago it’s been an unwritten rule that from 11pm – 1am, the gym is his. Obviously no-one gave Clint the memo.

The first time he finds Clint in the gym at that time he decides to go for a run instead. He knows he's not great company at that time of night, not with the threat of nightmares so close. That's the real reason he works out late at night. Anything to tire him out, hopefully enough to sleep in peace. It works more often than it doesn't, he's got them down to maybe one night in four. It's the best he's managed in years.

Running doesn't help. Not the way the gym does. He doesn't know why, it takes just as much out of him, but he guesses that using his speed just brings his time with HYDRA closer to his mind, feeds the nightmares. But he's still averaging only one night in two. That's manageable.

Until it isn't.

Steve pulls him aside one morning, concerned at the way Pietro had shuffled into the kitchen, bags under his eyes, looking like he hadn't slept a wink.

“Son, how you doing?”

Pietro can't lie to Captain America. Doesn't matter that he's not American, the thought of looking into those true blue eyes and lying just doesn't sit right. But he can't talk about the nightmares, so he stays silent.

Steve, of course, suggests that he needs more time to deal with whatever is going on. “Take your time, son” he says, “the Avengers will still be here when you're ready.”

Pietro _is_ ready, goddamnit. He had found something that was working. Then he had let that idiot with the arrows take it away from him. No more. Tonight, Pietro was using the gym. Clint would just have to deal with it.

*

Pietro turns up at 11pm, ear phones already plugged in, hoping that Clint will take the hint that he's not in the mood to chat. Clint barely glances at him as he makes for one of the machines, just nods his head and continues his warm up.

Relieved that, for once, Clint doesn't appear to be in the mood for banter, Pietro turns his music up and starts his routine.

He's barely half an hour in and just starting to feel the burn when he catches sight of Clint in the mirror. Thank God for fast reflexes because Pietro was pretty sure he would have dropped the weights on the leg curl machine with a clang at the sight of what Clint was doing.

Clint is kneeling on the mats, the one he's only ever saw Natasha use for yoga, with his entire body bent backwards in a curve, hands streched out on the mat behind him and head almost touching his toes. The angle that Pietro is looking from offers him a very clear view of Clint's substantial crotch area, which is thrust out with the way his body is bent.

It's quite possibly the hottest thing that Pietro has ever seen.

Which is kind of unfortunate, given that he's now sporting a raging hard on in the middle of the gym. Luckily he's lying face down on the leg curl machine so if Clint happens to look over then it wouldn't be obvious but it takes all of Pietro's self control not to rub against the leather seat of the machine, just to get some friction.

As Clint straightens up and stretches his well developed arms above his head, lengthening his lean torso, Pietro has to bite down on a whimper.

 _That's it_ , he thinks, _there's no way I can finish my work out tonight._

Giving himself a minute to 'calm down' he grabs his water and heads for the exit.

“You want a hand cooling down?” Clint asks, causing Pietro to fumble and almost drop his iPod.

“What?! No! I don't need to..oh, um, yeah cool down, muscles...No, I'm good thanks.”

Pietro all but runs from the room, missing the satisfied smirk on Clint's face.

As Pietro finally reached his room he immediately pushed down his trousers and took his still half hard cock into his hand as he started thrusting into his fist desperately. After coming harder than he had in months with Clint's body in his head and Clint's name on his lips he thinks it's safe to say that he might just be a little bit attracted to the archer.

Despite the spontaneous self love session, Pietro knows that his half an hour of lacklustre exercise isn't going to be enough to get him through the night. He resigns himself to a restless sleep, filled with terror and screaming.

Then awakens seven uninterrupted hours later after a night filled with pornographic dreams of Clint, the evidence of which is all over his sheets. Jesus, he hasn't had a wet dream since he was 16. He'd be more upset about it if he wasn't feeling so damn refreshed!

Even Steve comments on his more rested demeanour at breakfast.

“You're looking better, we might just see about getting you into the field soon.”

Pietro feels like he's walking on clouds for the rest of the day.

Eleven pm rolls around again and he makes his way to the gym, determined to make it through his full two hours tonight, only to be stopped short by the sight of a sweaty, half naked Clint Barton on his hands, lower body bent forward in an unforgiving arch, legs artfully curled in the air.

His water bottle and iPod clatter to the floor as all his blood rushes south, obviously rendering him incapable of holding on to things.

Clint's body unfurls slowly, Pietro's dick taking an interest in the way his muscles move underneath his skin.

“I'd ask if you want help warming up but you look pretty warm from here, kid.”

Clint is teasing him. This is good, this is familiar, Pietro knows how to handle a teasing Clint. Except Clint isn't normally quite so shirtless when they banter. It's throwing Pietro's game off, he doesn't know where to look.

His eyes dart wildly, trying to find a safe spot. _Not the face, not with Clint smirking and his stupid gorgeous eyes twinkling at him. Definitely not the chest, not if the tightening of his work out shorts are anything to go by._ As his eyes roam, they happen to notice that Clint is not entirely unaffected in the trouser area himself.

His eyes fly to meet Clint's, shocked at the unexpected turn of events.

“Now he gets it..so what do you say, Pietro? Want to heat things up?”

It's the 'Pietro' that cinches it. He throws himself at Clint, the two of them crashing on to the mats in a tangle. It's hot and passionate and filthy. It's perfect.

*

Pietro soon finds out that the best cure for nightmares is sleeping wrapped up in the arms of someone who loves you.

He's down to one night in thirty now.

He's also more flexible than ever thanks to his new boyfriend.

  
  



End file.
